Tag: Idaho

Hell Hike and Raft: Camp Life
Now that you’ve read about the hiking (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3) and rafting of the Hell Hike and Raft, I thought it would be fun to share what camp life was like. As much fun as the hiking and rafting were, camp life was equally entertaining and a big portion of what made this adventure so wonderful.
So here’s some insight into what it’s like to head into the backcountry with America’s Rafting Company.
Camping…
Camp locations varied widely from cozy spots where our tents and sleeping bags were nestled closely together to wide open places where the crew spread out. From our first night next to Shelf Lake to the babbling creek at Hibbs Cow Camp to the beaches and cliffs along the Snake, all of our sites had us perched near the soothing sounds of water. In spite of that common thread, each night’s camp was vastly different, giving us a new taste of Idaho with each stop.
Camp at Shelf Lake.
Our time in the Seven Devils was on the chilly side so I opted for tent camping those nights. That didn’t entirely keep this southern girl from freezing but it helped. The glorious Idaho weather did get the best of me, however, and made cowboy camping very appealing while at lower elevations along the river.
Unlike the deep south that I call home, there weren’t really any critters to contend with (aside from a close encounter with a skunk at dinner one evening that didn’t end well for Scout the River Dog…) so falling asleep under the stars was nothing short of magical. And with the aid of rafts, we had the 3-inch thick sleeping pads provided by ARC to rest our weary bodies on. That’s the backcountry version of a down-pillow mattress and they were glorious in comparison to my puny backpacking pad.
In terms of a guided trip, other than tending to our own sleeping arrangements, we didn’t have many other responsibilities. We did help help where we could, particularly with hauling gear on and off the rafts, but it felt odd, especially for the parents in the group, to be catered to instead of having to so the care-taking. By the end of the trip we’d gotten all to used to that treatment. I certainly didn’t want it to end.
Now you may be wondering about the bathroom situation. For the hiking portion, we employed standard backpacking procedures which means every man and woman for his or herself in digging cat-holes. But for the rafting part of the trip, having a gigantic boat to carry gear means we had a portable setup to use that was tucked on the outskirts of camp with a paddle as a bathroom door to let others know if it was in use or not. Let’s just say no matter where you are on the Snake, it’s the most scenic rest stop you’ll ever have.
My crewmates quickly figured out that coffee delivered to my “doorstep” prevented my morning grumpies. Well, mostly.
A long-lost watch at camp met it’s demise for the unexpected interruption.
The fetchinest dog ever and fun addition to camp… Tubbs.
The most epic pit stop ever.
The extra-thick sleeping pads were luxurious compared to our backpacking mats.
Food
The Hell Hike and Raft crew came for the adventure of the expedition… the hiking, rafting, exploring the back-country of Idaho, and bonding with fellow outdoor-blogger-types. What we didn’t really count on was eating like royalty. America’s Rafting Company provided fabulous grub, so much so that we started to wonder what the next meal would be, even while still in the midst of one.
Even for the backpacking days, food brought in by horses meant not having to resort to less-than-gourmet backcountry staples. Fajitas, omelets, and Fishpeople Seafood were among the choice fare in the Seven Devils. For the rafting section, we even had tables, chairs, and beer to go with our mouth-watering appetizers and hearty ARC meals… all while dining on the banks of the Snake.
And being that cooking was the domain of our hosts, the fact that all of the fabulous food was served up without have to prepare it may have been one of the most epic aspects of this adventure for me. I wasn’t kidding when I called this a dirtbag cruise.
Seriously… bacon, french toast, eggs, fresh fruit. While on a beach of the Snake River.
Seriously y’all, the food…
Five-star dining, America’s Rafting Company style.
The crew enjoying their Fishpeople Seafood.
Marshall and Rick prepping our first night’s dinner. We had no idea this was the tip of the food iceberg.
The flagship beverage of the rafting portion of the trip.
It comes down to people…
The truth is that for all of the amazing experiences hiking, rafting, and let’s be honest… eating, having the opportunity to hang out with great people is really where the sweet spot lies.
The heart and soul of America’s Rafting Company. I want Parker and Becky to adopt me. They’re awesome.
And throw a bunch of outdoors-people from different walks of life into the Idaho backcountry with ages spanning three decades and you’re bound to get the makings of a comedy. Indeed no one held back being their true selves. Our crew now has so many inside jokes, we’ll carry the bonds of this trip with us forever. Plus, after spending 6 days in the backcountry and having to deal with the realities of backcountry hygiene, we’re all just one big family now.
Aside from my wonderfully quirky, fabulous crew mates, we had the benefit of charismatic, energetic guides. We Hell Hike and Rafters are a colorful bunch but the America’s Rafting Company team gave us a run for our money. Full of energy and local knowledge, they kept us entertained and helped us understand their stomping ground. For the engaged travelers that we adventurer-types tend to be, that’s what connects us to the journey and place. Parker and Becky are nothing short of delightful and I’d join them for another adventure again in a heartbeat.
Campfire bonding.
Marshall regaling us with stories about the Seven Devils.
In between laughter and crew antics, there was time to be amazed at the beauty of Hell’s Canyon.
Coming up…
That’s about it for the journey of the Hell Hike and Raft. More reviews of gear to come.
In the meantime, enjoy this little compilation slideshow of camp life and don’t forget you can find all of my Hell Hike and Raft images on Flickr.

And now for your moment of green…
Water is life but it is also delight. The crystal clear, cold streams of Idaho were a constant companion on the Hell Hike and Raft.
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March 12, 2015
Hell Hike and Raft: The Snake River
In the last Hell Hike and Raft episode I mentioned that after the brutal third day of hiking, the waters of the Snake River were more than comforting, they were rejuvenating. We embraced the new rhythm of the trip but it was an abrupt change from the challenge of the hike to floating down the river, basically in the lap of luxury.
Unlike the drama of the hiking portion of the adventure, the rafting was much more mellow, punctuated by the brief excitement of rapids and stops at historical sites.
The Wild and Scenic Snake River…
Hell’s Canyon…
Dropping over 6,000 feet in six miles as we trekked out of the Seven Devils and into Hell’s Canyon, the surroundings were dramatically different. On the banks of the Snake River, we were nestled in the grassy, rolling slopes, a stark contrast to the jagged peaks of the Seven Devils.
Hell’s Canyon is the deepest gorge in the U.S. Yes, deeper than the Grand Canyon. It’s not a showy canyon, though. Formed from various phases of lava flows, uplift, and erosion, it’s beauty is more subtle than its cousin to the south. From its headwaters in Yellowstone National Park, the Snake meanders over 1,000 miles through six states before joining the Columbia River in Washington State. For kicks and giggles, check out this graph of Hell’s Canyon compared to the Grand Canyon, the Washington Monument, and the Empire State Building.
The Hell Hike and Raft crew dwarfed by Hell’s Canyon.
Rafting the Snake River…
I haven’t done whitewater, well… in quite awhile. Maybe twenty years, I think. And being a southern girl, our whitewater is considerably different. Southern rivers have a lot to offer in terms of excitement and exhilarating rapids but I wasn’t prepared for the scale of the Snake. The volume of the river is simply so much larger than anything I’ve experienced in the southeast.
Our America’s Rafting Company flotilla for the rafting portion of the Hell Hike and Raft consisted of a giant gear boat, an oar boat, and a paddling raft. Attached to the gear boat was an inflatable kayak as well as a paddle board for the crew to mix up the river experience. Throughout our days on the river, the crew migrated between boats to get the full variety of whitewater experience. Given that I couldn’t hold a paddle because of my hand injury, I had to opt out of joining the paddling raft or hopping into the kayak so my time was split between the gear boat and oar boat. And it was still great.
The paddle and oar boats heading into the first major rapid on the Hell Hike and Raft.
Directly out of camp on our first rafting day, we faced our biggest rapid. Adam, Scott, and I perched on an overlook to capture the crew as they tackled it before rejoining the gear boat for our own descent. It was fabulous to watch our crewmates faces as they worked their way through the whitewater. For us on the big, heavy gear boat, we didn’t get jostled quite as much.
A little later on, we got to watch as our guide, Rick, took the paddle boat through a rapid and “dump-trucked” the crew through a feisty rapid. There are very real dangers when that happens, but after the initial concern and all the crew was retrieved safely, everyone set to teasing Rick for his rafting prowess… or lack thereof in this instance.
Through rapids and slackwater, we all got to understand the Snake River. We spent our days floating along drinking beer with great people, our time occasionally punctuated by the thrill of rapids. In contrast to the demands of the hike, it was basically like being on the dirtbag version of a cruise. It was awesome.
As we made our way to the lower reaches, we began running into more and more jet boats and had to deal with jostling in their wake. Some were considerate and slowed appropriately, others not as much. Most of the wildlife decided to play shy while we were there but we were treated to watching a herd of mule deer drinking along the river just before we reached our takeout point.
Parker of America’s Rafting Company guiding part of our motley crew in the paddle boat.
Scott living large on the gear boat.
Scout, the epic river dog, added much charm to our journey.
America’s Rafting Company’s Becky takes a few of the Hell Hike and Raft crew through a rapid in the oar boat.
Tara and Jes working the inflatable kayak.
Four stooges drinking beer in the river during a break.
Becky getting her zen groove on with the paddle board.
History…
The Hell’s Canyon wilderness area straddles the Oregon/Idaho border and is rich in history as we soon found out. In addition to the camaraderie built around the rafting, our trip featured stops at a few of the multitude of historical camps along the river. And this is where my crewmates got to see me turn into a history dork rather than a geology dork.
We got to stop at a few along the way and learn about the people who have been the stewards of this canyon over the last century or so. The most notable of the camps, Kirkwood Ranch, provided the biggest insight since it is maintained as a historic site with year-round volunteers and a small museum. The volunteers step back in time to a life without an outside connection other than visitors like us, much like the families who lived here beginning in the 1930s. The museum here is a wonderful snapshot of life was like during that time. If you find yourself in Hell’s Canyon, do yourself a favor and take the time to soak in the history at Kirkwood.
The Sterling Cabin now serves as a mini museum at the Kirkwood Ranch.
One of the historic cabins along the river. Vintage newspapers line the walls, a snapshot of a very different time.
Relics of the past put a personal spin of life on the Snake.
The geology dork in me got very excited about seeing core samples. And very disheartened by realizing how close the Snake came to being dammed.
Artifacts at Kirkwood Ranch.
A feisty visitor at the Kirkwood Ranch.
Roundup…
And after six days in the backcountry of Idaho, our Hell Hike and Raft time came to a gentle close as we floated to the landing to pull the boats out of the water and head back to town. There’s more to come, though. I’ve barely scratched the surface of reviews and camp life. Stay tuned.
Parker guiding the gear boat onto the trailer at the take-out.
Scott giving Tara a congratulatory post-trip “tattoo” while we awaited our ride back to town.
The dirty, stinky Hell Hike and Raft crew on the way back to New Meadows.
Back in New Meadows, we had our last PBRs and paid tribute to our much-missed crew members who couldn’t make the trip.
In keeping with the other videos of the Hell Hike and Raft trip, here’s a slideshow of the rafting portion of the trip. Enjoy!

http://youtu.be/24G9IRdtjBg
And don’t forget all of my images from the Hell Hike and Raft can be found on Flickr.
And now for your moment of green…
Our last view of the Snake before our epic adventure came to and end.

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February 17, 2015
Hell Hike and Raft: The Seven Devils – Part 3
Remember how I said that on Day 2 I began loving this journey? Well on Day 3, we finally found out what the “hell” part of the Hell Hike and Raft was all about.
Frozen…
We awoke to freezing temperatures. Being from the Deep South, it’s not something I’m accustomed to dealing with often and to such extremes. With frigid hands, I muddled my way through breakfast and breaking camp.
The Hell Hike and Raft crew bidding farewell to Tubbs the Adventure Dog.
This morning’s pack up was different from the previous night’s. We’d be saying goodbye to John and the horses which meant we needed to pack our tents on our backs for this leg of the journey. We got to abandon our sleeping pads though since on the rafting portion we’d have thick, (relatively) luxurious rafting pads to sleep on.
This significant change in gear meant reconfiguring my packing strategy. And even though our Teton Sports packs were very groovy indeed, I realized later in the day I’d packed things far too lopsided and it caught up with me as I found myself listing to port the whole day. Which is not what you want on a massive descent. But by the time the realization hit me, I was beyond caring…
But let me back up a little.
Annie was smitten with the pack horses.
All downhill from here…
It was to be our last day of hiking before meeting the rafts on the Snake. The exit from Hibbs Cow Camp to our intended camp on the river meant a brutal day of 6,000 feet elevation loss over about 6 miles. And on trails that hadn’t been hiked in something like 20 years.
Annie enjoying the waterfall view… until we realized we had to make the descent, a river crossing, and another short uphill climb, only to start going down again.
We scrambled over and under logs, along loose gravel and rocks, and steep slopes that were not for the faint-of-heart. Down, down, and more down. Constantly, for hours on end, bracing our bodies and heavy packs against gravity and loose footing.
And then there were the water crossings. I lost count. I took great pains early on to keep my boots dry. By the last one I gave up and just plowed through, letting the cold water flood my boots, a temporary relief for aching feet like an ice pack. Exhaustion ruled so walking on squishy boots from that point on seemed the least of my troubles.
It was an unforgiving route. It was hell. None of us felt like taking pictures. We plodded along with legs like jelly. Yet it was beautiful. And the company top-notch. A very odd dichotomy to find ourselves in. Solidarity kept us moving forward.
The group seemed more spread out than over the past two days with the fitter, younger, and less injured folks setting a better pace than the rest of us. Marshall had to abandon us part-way, picking up the pace so he would make it to the boat take out in time to catch his ride. That left us under the guidance of Rick. And given that these trails were not well-used, there was some discussion and uncertainty as to which trails were the ones we were to follow. Our Hell Hike and Raft crew was a sort of hiking guinea pig for this route. Fortunately map skills prevailed and we managed to keep ourselves on track.
By the last mile, the terrain flattened out and our journey became a matter of getting to camp on legs like noodles and feet tender as raw hamburger. The foliage became more lush as we neared the water as you can imagine. The change of scenery helped me refocus on why I came here and that I wanted to take in every glorious moment, not be bogged down in pain. And as we got closer, there were more and more bear signs of the scat variety and bedding areas. It was intimidating. Let me tell you, that will get your attention off of sore feet and legs…
Pushing physical limits…
As problematic and sore as my knees can get, I’ve never worried about them giving out entirely before. On this descent, I started to worry. Seriously. Each step became a dance with tenderness and my feet joined the choir of protest early on. My mangled toe and sesamoid bone were done. Try as I might to adjust my boot laces, I couldn’t relieve the pressure on them. I had to simply plow on one tender step at a time.
Was the hiking glass half full or empty? Only one mile left… or still one mile left on painfully tired feet and legs.
It was on this day I wished I’d brought both trekking poles. I set out with only one knowing I wouldn’t be able to hold one in my right hand for very long. On this day, I would have taken the pain in my hand for the relief and stability that extra pole would have provided because in addition to painful feet, each step had to be carefully placed to keep from slipping. And indeed I landed on my rear several times on the descent.
The bulk of our steps, for six miles, was bracing against the loose, steep slopes with ungainly forty pound packs strapped to our bodies. In addition to the complications of my feet, the brutal nature of this route meant my thighs and glutes were screaming, too. Today’s journey was about the challenge; pushing my personal limits and finding ways to get past the mental barriers that wanted to keep me focused on the discomfort and pain. At one point I confessed to Adam one of my techniques… singing saucy Monty Python songs quietly to myself to stay in my happy place. That seemed to amuse him, although it didn’t surprise him. 😉
Lioness Tara resting on the brutal downhill of the last day.
The Snake…
I’ve wanted to see the Snake River for as long as I can remember. I never imagined I would be exhausted and in great pain during my very first glimpse of it, though. I was in hiker death march mode, focused on the promise of being able to collapse once I got camp set up.
Can’t beat this camp. Good food. Good friends. Amazing views.
By the time we arrived, I almost couldn’t wrap my head around making camp. The mental challenge of getting through the day had taken it’s toll. Fortunately auto-pilot took over to some extent and I muddled my way through it. I set to the task right away, knowing that if I took a break I wouldn’t be able to muster enough energy to do it later.
We pitched our tents on the cliff overlooking the Snake so I had yet to see the swanky America’s Rafting Company kitchen set-up down by the river. Once I finished settling into my tent, I grabbed my camera and GorillaPod and mozied my way down to the river on protesting feet.
I’d only briefly gotten to say hello to Wendy, my fellow southern girl, who was only able to join us for the rafting portion of the trip. So it caught a little off-guard when I set my coat and tripod on the table next to her and she gave me a quizzical look and asked “Is that your vibrator?” I laughed, gave her a high five and said “Darlin’, we are going to get along just fine.” Of course, I did set her straight that I don’t generally pack that kind of equipment out during a backcountry trip.
And with laughter and relief, we all set to enjoying our first night on the Snake with a healthy stock of PBR, great cooking by the America’s Rafting Company crew, and frolicking in the rejuvenating water.
The Hell Hike and Raft crew spent a good bit of time being charmed by the Snake.
Mileage…
Our actual distance was far less than was originally anticipated for the trip. And that’s a good thing given the terrain and time it took us to even do what we did. It’s one thing to do a long, difficult hike for one day. Three days in a row is another story. Missouri Howell was our enthusiastic cartographer for this expedition and came up with these numbers and map for us (with my commentary for added color):
- Day 1 – red: 4.39 miles, 1,657′ gain: In spite of what appears to be a low-mileage day, it was loaded with a big dose of up and down over challenging terrain but totally doable when you’re on Day 1 and amped up for the adventure.
- Day 2 – blue: 6.60 miles, 2,280′ gain: Nice day. Big views. Challenging but achievable terrain, distance, and elevation changes. Yeehaw, right?
- Day 3 – black: 5.67 miles, 6,280′ loss: Idaho, it’s a good thing you’re beautiful because that hike was indeed hell.
The Hell Hike and Raft route through the Seven Devils. If you know anything about topo maps, have a gander at Day 3. Boy howdy, that’s crossing a LOT of contour lines. Big love to Missouri Howell for the map.
The big picture in undertaking a hike like this is that the pain does fade. And the triumph and accomplishment remains. So yes, in spite of the pain, I would do it again in a heartbeat.
For your viewing pleasure…
To recap the hiking portion of the trip, here’s a short slideshow of our time in the Seven Devils…

For the Hell Hike and Raft full monty according to Val, head over to my Flickr album of the adventure.
And now for your moment of green…
The view of the Snake River from our tents. Yep, that was worth the misery…

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December 17, 2014
Hell Hike and Raft: The Seven Devils – Part 2
After a demanding but exhilarating first day of the Hell Hike and Raft, you’d think I would have slept soundly. Not so much. My first night nestled in the forest of the Seven Devils was fitful. But that’s normal for me. It’s part of what makes me not a morning person. But if there’s anything that can take the sting out of waking up after a restless night, it’s the view of fog dancing over a lake while surrounded by excellent people.
Shelf Lake morning…
While this was certainly an epic adventure, unlike a lackadaisical vacation, I did have an obligation to document as much as possible of the Hell Hike and Raft to share upon our return to civilization. So I may have dropped a few grumpy F-bombs when I awoke in the morning to breathtaking gorgeousness. I know… poor me.
The stunning beauty of Shelf Lake.
The reason for the attitude is that I like to wake up slowly and nurse my coffee before I jump headlong into the day. The stunning fog display meant I had to get my game on before I was fully prepared to in order to catch it before it dissipated. And that meant trudging back up to my tent for camera gear and getting my brain awake enough to figure out how to capture the beauty. I’m not sure I was successful but I did give it a good try under the bleary-eyed circumstances.
The rest of the morning consisted of breakfast and packing up. Breakfast was fantastic and I quickly realized our first night’s dinner was not a fluke… that we’d be eating like this the whole time. We were going to have to hike much more vigorously to stay in front of the calories we were putting away at each meal. Nay, each feast.
Stuffed full as a tick, I set to repacking my absurdly heavy pack, very grateful to be able to give my tent to John to pack on the horses while simultaneously kicking myself for not being more diligent about my pack weight. While I struggled to cram everything back in and not send my injured hand into fits of renewed complaints, Adam paused nearby and said “It’s snowing!” with a gleam in his eye. I gave him a pissy, under-caffeinated eyeroll and said “Dude, this was not in the brochure.” Florida-native girl, i.e. yours truly, was not terribly pleased by the idea of snow.
A feast for breakfast.
Journey to Dry Diggins…
Fortunately Mother Nature was not serious about that snow and it stopped as quietly and quickly as it started. So we left Shelf Lake, destined for Hibbs Cow Camp for the night. The trail took us past the stunning blue Basin Lake where we discovered some pretty groovy trail art. And somewhere along the way Jeff and I made Tara choke with our commentary on one of our product sponsors, Fresh Balls/Fresh Breasts. I’m not sure it was appropriate for Tara’s young ears and that discussion is entirely NSFW so I’ll gloss over that part. Feel free to ask me about that over a beer sometime. 😉
The Basin Lake trail art we discovered.
Later along Upper Bernard Lake, I came to really love this journey. I was enjoying it, yes. But I came to love it as we walked along the lake here and the beauty of the mountains, lakes, and wildflowers overwhelmed me.
Yes, there were Valgasms involved. And Adam’s words amidst his chuckles… “Take your time, Val,” as I gasped, grabbed my camera, and approached my blooming subjects like they were supermodels in a photo shoot. And they are to me, of course. But I didn’t want to hold up the group so I kept it short. A quickie you might say. But it was enough for me to regain my long-missing mojo.
We still had a side trip to Dry Diggins Lookout to tackle before our arrival at camp so we had some ground to cover. And so we pressed on. At the trail split, we abandon our packs under a tree to lighten our load for the climb to the lookout. We all felt light as air for awhile until the elevation gain and switchbacks took their toll. I’d left behind my lone trekking pole and realized that was a mistake.
But the view was extraordinary. I’d always wanted to see the Snake River in person ever since my first glimpse of Ansel Adams iconic image. No matter that his view of it was in Wyoming, it was still the Snake I gazed over from Dry Diggins. And much to my delight, the lookout itself was history frozen in time. Vintage appliances, furniture, and even a first aid kit told a story from a different era.
On a natural high from the day’s experiences, we set off back down to our packs with our sights on Hibbs Cow Camp. With one more mini-summit that gave us an amazing view of the Seven Devils, we descended yet again until we were finally at Hibbs.
Renewal after a burn made for breathtaking contrasts.
A kilt-clad Adam along the trail at Upper Bernard Lake.
The view of the Snake River from Dry Diggins lookout.
The Seven Devils from Dry Diggins Lookout
A vintage first aid kit in the Dry Diggings Lookout.
One last view of the Seven Devils before heading back down.
Hibbs Cow Camp…
Our first night at Shelf Lake had us camping in the shadow of rocky peaks on the lakeshore. Hibbs Cow Camp had a very different feel. Alongside a babbling creek, we set up our tents. Because there was no opening for a lake, the trees felt closer and more enveloping.
After our long day under the packs, we were more than ready for our Fishpeople Seafood night. Some of the non-seafood-eaters in the bunch weren’t thrilled because it didn’t suit their palates. I had no trouble offering to eat their portions since I’m a fan of the product. And in fact, I polished off enough Fishpeople to not leave room for dessert. Seems a fair trade in my book.
We spent the evening entertained by Tubbs-the-amazing-fetcher-dog and stories by Marshall in between rounds of dodging campfire smoke and general conversation. And like many cold nights after a long hike, it was an early bedtime for most of us.
The Hell Hike and Raft crew ready for their Fishpeople Seafood fix.
A whole lot of Fishpeople goodness getting ready to be devoured.
Story time with Marshall.
More to come, stay tuned… Until then, here’s a short video of the dancing fog and the epic fetching dog.

And now for your moment of green…
My Upper Bernard Lake beauties.

November 19, 2014
Hell Hike and Raft: The Seven Devils – Part 1
Last time around, I talked about the beginning of the Hell Hike and Raft, what it took to prepare, and some of the logistics involved. Now we get to the good stuff, the actual adventure.
The funny part about this trip for me was that prior to June of this year, I’d never set foot in the state of Idaho. In my 42 years, I’d never managed to get there and here I was returning for the second time in three months, having been there in June on the Pacific Northwest Tour. Not that I’ve gotten around to writing that up yet, mind you, but stay tuned. 😛
A perky Hell Hike and Raft crew ready for adventure.
Intro…
Just so you know what we’re dealing with, the hiking portion of the Hell Hike and Raft took place in the Seven Devils, a series of Rocky Mountain peaks within the Hells Canyon Wilderness on the western edge of Idaho. This is a rugged range spanning elevations from 1,000 feet at the Snake River to 9,393 at the He Devil summit and is nestled between the Snake, Salmon, and Little Salmon Rivers.
Hells Canyon Wilderness in Western Central Idaho
Go time…
I set out to Idaho from Georgia via a couple of flights, not my typical or favorite mode of transportation, and by the time I landed in Boise it was late afternoon. With a big drive north up to New Meadows remaining ahead of us, we blasted out of the Boise airport almost as soon as I got off the plane. Most of the rest of the crew had arrived earlier in the day but I was a straggler. With Becky of America’s Rafting Company playing chauffeur, we arrived at our motel just before dark. Even though the entire crew was travel-weary, we still had to sift through sponsor products and frantically repack before our early morning departure.
Tara shows off our home in New Meadows…
Sadly, that’s where things got a bit wonky for me on my pack weight. I already had major concerns about it as well as great discomfort about my unfamiliarity with the gear but the time constraints left me with not a lot of options other than throwing stuff in my pack, weight be damned.
Fortunately my crew mates had fair warning that I’m not a morning person. Our early morning wake up in New Meadows did not bode well and, indeed, only Russ had the moxie to dare knock on the door of the room I was sharing with Annie and Jes. He’s a bright man, though, and quickly mentioned that bacon and coffee were readily available at the coffee shop which landed him a hug rather than an obscene gesture.
With some effort, I got myself together and oozed into the van for the ride to the trail head. Everyone got to witness what it takes for me to get prepped for this kind of undertaking… taping the toe, containing the knees with supports, clipping the camera gear into place, etc. And after we commandeered a poor soul to take group shots for us, we set out.
Russ knows how to get an epic adventure started.
Various stages of wakefulness in the pre-hike hours…
Goat Pass and Windy Saddle…
Of course, you know how it goes at the beginning of an adventure, you’re full of energy and excited about what lies ahead. And then we started to understand the warnings about the difficulty of Goat Pass. Up, up, up in the dry Idaho air and at an elevation far above my HQ of Atlanta. I may have slung a few f-bombs and middle fingers at our guides, Marshall and Rick, young bucks who easily bounded up and down the trails in their large packs while I labored under my 40-pound one.
The crew pausing on the ascent to Goat Pass.
Marshall kept encouraging us on, even using the time-honored parental tactic of only “5 more minutes” left to go. To which I looked at him with raised eyebrows and called bullshit. Those of us with in the crew who have kids basically said “Dude, really? You think we don’t know that game?” Please, darlin’. Not our first rodeo.
So we marched onward over Goat Pass. And we were rewarded with a view of Mirror Lake that was both numbingly beautiful and exhilarating. Then it was time to go back down. Over loose, steep, often sketchy terrain that had our sense of self-preservation on high alert.
On this section, Scott and Annie learned about what has been affectionately deemed “Valgasms” by previous adventure-mates. This is when I go uber-nerd about something and can barely speak for the beauty and intrigue of it. A rock. A view. A plant. A bug. It can be any number of things that will stop me in my tracks to ponder and be amazed.
Miraculously, even amidst countless Valgasms, we made it to lunch at Sheep Lake in decent time. The approach was something out of a fairy tale. Lush green grass blanketed the banks of the lake. Soft, squishy mud yielded to a boulder field at the far end. We basked in the sun through lunch, still high on anticipation of what lay ahead.
Before we set back out on the trail, I decided to give my new Potable Aqua PURE device a real-life test. Originally I thought I was packing too much water but by the time we reached the lake, I had already downed two liters and realized I should get some more going on the treatment process. So I gave the PURE a go with my fellow PA ambassador Scott, grabbing some shots for me. But more on that later.
Paulina and I stand triumphant at the top of Goat Pass.
Mirror Lake had us all mesmerized.
Our first day was a whole lot of up!
And a lot of steep, loose, sketchy, knee-tormenting downs.
Giving my Potable Aqua PURE device a try in the field.
He Devil…
We toddled off after lunch, bellies full and with much discussion about attempting to summit He Devil, which was to be a side-trip. I knew before heading to Idaho that I would not be attempting the climb. It was far too rigorous for my physical state at the time, I knew my knees couldn’t hack it AND still hike hard for another two days, and the scrambling involved was too risky for my vulnerable and sensitive hand injury.
At the split, Rick took all the women except me (Dag nab it!), as well as Russ and Shannon to summit He Devil. Shannon was indecisive about it initially. When he had almost landed on not attempting it, we got a taste of what the trip would be with Paulina on board when she quipped… “You’re not as epic as I thought you were.” As you can imagine, that was the tip of the Paulina iceberg and she made the trip very entertaining.
As for the non-He Devil crew… Scott, Adam, and Jeff were left to keep me company as Marshall led us to our camp at Shelf Lake. Shannon caught up with us part of the way into the hike, having reconsidered the He Devil attempt. And so we trundled our way along the rugged trails towards Shelf Lake, starting to grasp the landscape and the joy of being in the Seven Devils.
Scott taking a breather along the trail.
I may have had a couple of Valgams in this spot.
The boulder fields around Sheep Lake made us feel quite small indeed.
Shelf Lake…
We approached Shelf Lake not entirely certain which camp we’d be in for the night. If it was occupied, we’d have to find another. But as we approached, we saw the America’s Rafting Company “sign” for camp and we descended to the lake shore to get our first glimpse of our home for the night. It was also our first glimpse of John the horse dude, our team of three trusty steeds that hauled in our tents and food, as well as John’s epic adventure-dog, Tubs.
We got to setting up our tents, somewhat self-satisfied that we got first dibs at tent spots over the He Devil crew. But it wasn’t long before they arrived at camp, unsuccessful in the ascent. They decided part of the way up that they didn’t have to complete it and get back to camp in time so they rerouted early.
Their disappointment was easily relieved by the fact that we were having fajitas for dinner… and we didn’t even have to cook them ourselves because America’s Rafting Company is just all kinds of awesome. Having never been on a supported trip before, I didn’t know what to expect of meals but boy-oh-boy, did we feast on this trip. As you can tell, our first dinner in the Seven Devils was nothing short of amazing. And it was just the beginning of an adventure full of great food and great company.
Our signal for camp.
Epic fetcher… Tubs.
A great way to cap off our first day in the Seven Devils.
Rick and Marshall whipped up amazing trail fajitas. A chick could get used to this…
Bonding at our Shelf Lake camp.
And with that, we closed out our first day in the Seven Devils and the Hell Hike and Raft adventure. With one amazing day behind us, it was hard to believe we still had five more blissful days to go. More to come. Stay tuned…
And now for your moment of green…
Not a bad view for our first night in the Seven Devils…

November 10, 2014
Hell Hike and Raft: The Beginning
In deciding how on earth I can share all of the facets of a truly epic adventure, I figured it comes down to starting at the beginning to set the stage for the bigger story of hiking, rafting, friendship, gear, and adventure. So let’s go back to March when I got a most interesting message.
The Backstory…
Adam of Hiking the Trail fame was inviting me on an epic adventure. Something called the Hell Hike and Raft, a six-day hiking and rafting trip through the backcountry of Idaho. My initial thoughts were of the “Hell, yeah!” variety followed quickly by the “Oh wait, can I handle this?” kind. And a little later it was “Really? Me? Does he realize what he’s in for by inviting me along?” I’m known to have a bit of a mouth on me, after all.
Somehow I got the notion to make hats for all the crew members so in the months preceding the trip, I was knitting like a madwoman.
With some time to soak in the idea, several things played out. First, I had to stop second-guessing my abilities. I am not an uber-explorer, trekking off into the wilds half the year. Most of my adventures in recent memory been car-based camping and day-hiking with Fred and George. It took some mental wrestling to headlock my feelings of not having enough outdoor cred into submission.
Second, other team members started to be announced… Scott Gauvin of Hiking Forward, Mike Restivo of Mike Off the Map, and Rozanne Cassone of Mountain Matron. At that point, I realized what an opportunity this was turning into… the trip of a lifetime with people I admire. I simply couldn’t pass this up. To be included in their ranks was both flattering and intimidating.
Third, I figured out that with some logistical gymnastics, it was workable schedule-wise. There was some calendar conflict with me taking the boys to Dragon*Con already set in stone as well as their first days of classes at their homeschool group for which I play chauffeur. Fortunately with some calendar shuffling and creativity, I managed to get my absence covered.
As you can see, this wasn’t a no-brainer. Like pretty much everyone else, I suffer from confidence issues. And it takes a lot of energy to make these things happen… with or without the boys along for the ride. I know people see me heading off on all sorts of adventures and that it might look easy but I assure you, it’s a juggling act.
Preparations…
I’ve fessed up that this trip was well outside of my comfort zone. I’ve only rafted a few times in my life, I hadn’t done any backpacking of note in many years, and I was completely out of shape. But there’s nothing like a challenge to light a fire under your ass, is there?
I would not have normally been hitting the local trails so hard in Georgia’s summer heat if not for the need to prepare for the Hell Hike and Raft. But you gotta work with what you’ve got.
In the months leading up to the trip, my success in physically preparing was fleeting. The Pacific Northwest took it’s toll on me as did the hand injury I sustained on that trip. In fact, that injury ended up requiring surgery that I postponed until after the Hell Hike and Raft so that I could still go on the trip.
I did manage some physical improvements before getting on the plane to Idaho but I was not where I wanted to be. I knew I’d still get through the trip and not be a detriment to the team, but I also knew I was in for a really big challenge.
My surprise was that cardio-wise I wasn’t as bad off as I thought I’d be but the elevation and dry air proved to be a big adjustment. All of my training leading into the trip was in Atlanta which sits at about 1,000 feet and, in the summer, has the heat and humidity of a rainforest, for pete’s sake. Not even close to the conditions I’d be facing in Idaho. But it’s what I had to work with.
Gear…
I’ve mentioned before that I’m not a gear junkie and between the items being provided by sponsors and what I already had on hand, I really didn’t need much for the trip. I did make a couple of small gear tweaks but overall it wasn’t a huge ordeal or expense to get geared up.
The only gear I got to try out in advance was the Teton Sports pack. Everything else was going in blind.
One of the major changes I made for this trip that I put some effort into was how I dealt with water. With the addition of the Potable Aqua PURE device to my gear, I made significant adjustments in how I carried and treated.
As for my lack of experience with packing for a trip of this sort, I was very fortunate that my crewmates shared their impressive spreadsheets and gear lists so I didn’t have to recreate the wheel. Now, keep in mind I didn’t get nearly as detailed as they did in weighing everything down to the gram. I have a tendency to wing it on these things but I do make sure I have the essentials, of course.
The huge benefit to this trip was that, other than snacks, we didn’t have to worry about food since America’s Rafting Company was handling all of it. Gotta say, that was a really sweet deal. It was all kinds of groovy not to have to worry about stoves, fuel, and meals.
Sadly, in spite of that, my pack was still far too heavy for the journey ahead. Maybe I should have been a bit more diligent about weighing… but more details on food, water, gear, and all of that jazz later. Stay tuned for more Hell Hike and Raft adventures.
Riding the train to the airport the morning I left, I could hardly contain myself… or believe it was actually happening.
I’m not a fan of the flying process, but knowing what waited for me in Idaho made the hassle well worth it.
And now for your moment of green…
The Hell Hike and Raft proved to be the trip of a lifetime.

October 22, 2014
Hell Hike and Raft
One of the things about my life is that, even on the heels of a big adventure like the Pacific Northwest Tour, I’m always getting the question, “What’s next?” And as my fellow adventurers know, one of the ways to ease the re-entry blues is to be planning the next adventure. In my case, that’s been in the works for awhile… and now that I’m not consumed with a monster road trip, I’ve got my sights set on Idaho.
So on September 1st I’ll be flying out to take on a groovy adventure with 11 of my outdoor blogger co-horts for the Hell Hike and Raft. We’re coming together from all over the United States to take on roughly 40 miles of hiking and 30 miles of rafting through Idaho’s Seven Devils Mountain Range and Hell’s Canyon with America’s Rafting Company (ARC) as our guide.
The totally faboo sponsors supporting this project…
We’ll be sharing our experiences, thoughts, and stories about the trip itself and what we’re doing to prepare for an adventure like this. Not only are they a lot of fun, but they’re incredible outdoors-folk who are worth paying attention to so be sure to check out their bios on the Hell Hike and Raft website.
It takes a lot of effort and coordination to get a project like this off the ground and thanks to Adam Nutting of Hiking the Trail and ARC, this trip is really coming together. Between their efforts and those of my crew-mates, there are some fantastic sponsors lined up. We’ll truly be putting the products to the test given the extreme conditions of this adventure and, of course, we’ll be sharing our thoughts with you.
So be sure to follow along, this is going to be a wild ride…
Hell Hike and Raft on Pinterest | The HHAR according to Val | Hell Hike and Raft Blog
The Hell Hike and Raft… Idaho. Hiking. Rafting. Bring it on.
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July 11, 2014

The Pacific Northwest Tour: Redux

So it’s been a full week since I’ve returned to “normal” life back at Camp Granola HQ after the Pacific Northwest Tour. My glamorous post-trip activities have involved the likes of buying a new refrigerator, tackling the massive computer difficulties that kept me from processing images while on the trip, sorting through stacks of mail and bills, unpacking the car, gear maintenance, and laundry… oh, the laundry. (Can you hear me weeping?)

At any rate, with computer issues resolved, I’m slowly regaining my rhythm and plowing through the 9,000+ images and videos I took while on the road. I’ve got lots of material to share about the fabulous places we visited but before we get to that, let’s do a recap:

By the numbers…

Total days on the road: 48
Miles driven: 9,015
States visited: 22 (GA, AL, MS, TN, AR, OK, TX, NM, AZ, CO, UT, ID, OR, WA, ND, SD, MN, IA, NE, MO, IL, KY)
Canadian Provinces: 4 (British Columbia, Alberta, Saskatchewan, Manitoba)
National Parks and Lands visited in U.S. and Canada: 11… along with driving through so many National Forests I lost count.
State Parks visited: 2
Instagrams: 152
Nights in hotels: 15
Nights camping: 31 (in 8 different campgrounds)
Geocaches: 52
Continental Divide crossings: 4
Time Zone changes: 8

Supplemental silliness…

Some other odd little tidbits from the trip include:

I only did laundry three times on the Pacific Northwest tour. I’ll let you do the olfactory math on what Blubaru smells like right now. Better yet? Do yourself a favor and don’t try to imagine that.

Oil changes for Blubaru: 2
Border crossings: 2 (None with George naked this time, though)
REI visits: 4 (Hey, last year’s trip had 5…)
Laundry days: 3 (Yep, only three. Don’t judge…)
Shower days: 24 (Am I officially a dirtbag now?)
Drives-through-the-night: 1
Cool folks I got to hang out with: American Sahara, Wilderness Dave, Only Dirt Roads, The Morning Fresh, Mike Off the Map, One Who Hikes, Missouri Howell

The ups and downs behind the scenes…

This trip went remarkably well, really. There were no major weather battles, gear failures, car repairs, or injuries… just normal low-level stuff that is to be anticipated on a trip like this. Certainly nothing that caused major changes or hangups.

There were triumphs and struggles, of course. And each trip provides different lessons to consider for the next adventure.

Fred and George in a moment of sweetness at Craters of the Moon.

The ups…

Pace: Compared to previous adventures, I set a more manageable pace for the most part, especially early on. That did slip towards the end when I found myself driving nealry 2,600 miles in less than four days but my average daily mileage was my lowest of the last three major expeditions.
Documentation: I did a much better job of keeping up with photography and even dipped my toe into time-lapse and video.
Geocaches: Before setting out, George and I had notions of getting in way more geocaching on this trip. Even though we got fewer than we set out for, we both agreed the quality of the ones we found was very high so we’re counting this in the win column.
Hotel time: I had my sights on less than 10 nights in hotels. We ended up with 15. The reason I’m counting it as a win is that we made better use of those stops by checking in earlier and enjoying the luxury of beds, hot showers, and wifi instead of just blasting in to sleep for a few hours.
Backroads: One of my major focuses for this expedition was spending more time on backroads instead of highways. There’s still room for improvement but I’m very satisfied with our highway-to-backroads ratio.
Base camp: We did much less camp-hopping averaging 3-4 nights in each stop.

The downs…

My darling Fred: Our biggest struggle this trip was emotional. Dealing with the roller-coaster that is a teenager while living out of a small car… well, it was challenging. He had his very sweet, Fred moments but those were few and far between the episodes of diving into the depths of teenage discontent.

Not only did I have computer power issues, I was operating with only one camera battery.

Power issues: Early on I struggled with staying powered so I could continue to work on the road. A stop through Goal Zero HQ in Salt Lake City greatly improved our situation.
Computer issues: Not long after I solved my power issues, my poor beleaguered MacBook started having a meltdown… out of memory, out of space, and having no part of running beefier programs like Lightroom. It basically gave me a big middle-finger and I was dead in the water for processing and properly backing up images. I opted for damage-control mode in order to just get home and solve the issues from here rather than try to deal with it on the road.
Hand injury: Unfortunately this trip was not injury-free. In Salt Lake City I did a lovely little number on my right hand, hyper-extending digits in ways they really should not be. Aside from blinding pain, there was nothing that sent up red flags for me. With no apparent swelling or bruising, I didn’t think much of it at the time other than “That’s going to hurt for awhile.” Five weeks later… well, it ain’t so great.
Fitness: One of my major failures this go-round was keeping up my fitness level. I did some hiking and managed a handful of yoga sessions, but with so much time in the car, it was no where near my usual activity. My plummeting fitness had a huge impact on my ability to combat road-trip fatigue and towards the end, I began feeling absolutely horrible.

Coming up…

There were some places we blitzed through that deserved so much more time. Olympic National Park was definitely one of them.

There you have it, the Pacific Northwest Tour in a nutshell. The meaty stuff is coming up next so stay tuned as I sift through the detritus from the journey and start telling the stories of the truly fabulous places we got to experience as well as the logistics, tips, and realities of a expedition like this.

For an overview of the locations I’ll be writing about, visit my Pacific Northwest Tour Pinterest Board.

As always, follow along on your favorite social media outlet for more of Camp Granola’s adventures.

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Flickr | G+

And now for your moment of green…

One of my vivid memories of the Pacific Northwest Tour… being enveloped by fog in Olympic National Park

The expedition…

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July 7, 2014

The Pacific Northwest Tour: On the Road Again

Stage 1…

Stage 2…

Other considerations…

Keep in touch…

And now for your moment of green…

Policies

Tag: Idaho

Camping…

Food

It comes down to people…

Coming up…

And now for your moment of green…

Hell’s Canyon…

Rafting the Snake River…

History…

Roundup…

And now for your moment of green…

Frozen…

All downhill from here…

Pushing physical limits…

The Snake…

Mileage…

For your viewing pleasure…

And now for your moment of green…

Shelf Lake morning…

Journey to Dry Diggins…

Hibbs Cow Camp…

And now for your moment of green…

Intro…

Go time…

Goat Pass and Windy Saddle…

He Devil…

Shelf Lake…

And now for your moment of green…

The Backstory…

Preparations…

Gear…

And now for your moment of green…

By the numbers…

Supplemental silliness…

The ups and downs behind the scenes…

Coming up…

And now for your moment of green…

The expedition…

Stage 1…

Stage 2…

Other considerations…

Keep in touch…

And now for your moment of green…